Danke Law Office was open only one day a week.
McMasters Farmers Union Insurance was a family-run operation. Unless she married Jimbo McMasters, the fortysomething only son everyone in town suspected was g*y, she couldn’t even fetch coffee for them.
According to local gossip, Wyoming First Credit Union hadn’t hired a single new employee in the last twenty years.
The Tumbleweed wouldn’t reopen until June.
And she already worked for Bernice.
Harper doubted any of the churches in town would let her heathen hands even scrub their toilets.
Her head fell back onto the couch cushions. She stared at the dingy, rust-stained ceiling tiles. No doubt she’d have to drive to Rawlins to find work. Which could be problematic, with Bailey’s school schedule and the fact that they had only one car. Luckily Bailey was staying overnight with her friend Amy—Harper was glad Bailey wasn’t around to see her panic and distress.
Sad that her life had always run parallel to one of those downon-her-luck country songs.
Her cell phone jangled, startling her out of her morose musings, and she dug in her purse until she found it. “Hello?”
“Do you have any idea how f**king boring it is driving across Texas? My God. And people think there’s nothin’ to see in Wyoming? Dude. This stretch of road is like the highway to hell. Seriously.”
Her friend Celia Lawson seemed to have a sixth sense, knowing when Harper needed to talk. “Texas, huh? Isn’t that out of your circuit?”
“Yep. I’m heading to Tanna Barker’s for a few days. Her vet is gonna look at Mickey’s leg before we hit the next event.”
After sneaking around for a few years on the local rodeo circuit, Celia finally had her brothers’ blessing to chase her dream of becoming a world champion barrel racer. The new rodeo season commenced in January, and Celia was determined that this year she’d make it to the American Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas. “It’s still giving him problems?”
“Some. It hasn’t affected my performance yet, but I wanna make sure it’s nothin’ serious. And it’ll be a while before I get back up there so Eli can take a look at it.”
“How long is a while?”
“At least a month. Why? Do ya miss me?”
“No.”
Celia laughed. “Liar. So what’s up with you?”
That’s when Harper completely broke down. Her words were an incoherent jumble as she sobbed. Through a bout of hiccups, she mumbled, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to unload.”
“Now you’ve really got me worried because you never cry.”
“It’s different this time, Cele. I’ve used up every bit of grant money I had left over. I wasn’t making much at the tanning salon, but some was better than none. And we both know why no one in town will hire me.”
Celia was quiet on the other end of the line—a rarity for her.
“So because our rent is so cheap here and we’re close to Bailey’s school, I’ll have to find a job in Rawlins. Probably in a bar or supper club so the nighttime hours won’t interfere with Bailey’s schedule.”
Again Celia didn’t respond.
Maybe she was put off by your babbling.
“Celia? You still there?”
“Yeah. Just thinkin’. Tossing a couple of things around.” Another pause. “You ain’t opposed to workin’ outside, are you?”
Harper bit her lip to keep from bawling. Good-hearted Celia would call her brothers and line up work on their ranch. While that was above and beyond, Harper had enough problems holding her head up in this town. “Look, Celia—”
“Can that tone, Harper. Jeez. I’m not gonna ask Abe and Hank to hire you, but there might be another option. So do you have a problem with ranch work?”
Should she admit she had no idea what “ranch work” entailed? No. She’d hear Celia’s proposal first. “No problem with it. Why?”
“Sit tight. I’ve got a call to make and then I’ll call you right back.”
The line went dead, and Harper wondered what Celia was up to. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do but wait and find out.
Bran Turner ignored his cell phone the first time it rang. And the second. At the third attempt, he just picked the f**king thing up and snarled, “What?”
“Jesus, Bran. You always this grumpy first thing in the morning?”
“I am when I just fell into bed two hours ago.”
“Up late partyin’, were you?”
“Fuck off. I was up late calving.”
She laughed. “Oh, I see. That’s why you’re in such a pissy mood. You fell into bed all by your lonesome.”
“Like that’s news. Is there a point to this call, little girl? Or you just bored and needin’ someone to harass?”
“‘Little girl,’ ” Celia snorted. “For the record, I’m twenty-three. And the raunchy things I’ve seen against the pickups, in the horse trailers, and behind the chutes, traveling the circuit? Dude. They’d even make you blush.”
“Doubtful.” Bran rolled flat on his back. His buddy Hank’s little sister, Celia, suffered from loneliness on the road to rodeo glory and phoned him from time to time just to shoot the shit. But this didn’t feel like one of those calls. “Is this your way of asking me for advice on how to spice up your sex life? Or do you want a personal demonstration?” He grinned. That oughta get the hellcat’s back up.